The capital of Riverdale was shrouded in silence. Torches burned low along the stone walls, and the air carried the heavy scent of steel and cold earth.
For the last week, inside the sanctuary had been filled with cries of agony and the sickening sounds of flesh tearing, bones breaking, and bodies being remade.
A week had passed since Klaus began his interrogations.
The first elf spy that had been caught was a hollow shadow of his past self. His once radiant emerald eyes were dull, clouded with the haze of death magic.
Where there had once been fire and defiance, there was now obedience and silence.
He had been broken, reshaped, and bound as a death soldier. Another piece of Klaus's unshakeable army.
And he was not the last.
Dozens of spies had been captured since then. Humans, elves, even half-beasts. Each one had been dragged down into the same nightmare, interrogated until their wills shattered, their secrets spilled into Klaus's hands.
